


I Can't Get Out

by TheMulletWhisperer



Series: Looking Glass [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Halloween, Horror, Nightmares, railroad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMulletWhisperer/pseuds/TheMulletWhisperer
Summary: Although her mind is metal and plastic rather than flesh, Nicky is still haunted by the same dreams as her human self.





	I Can't Get Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is a halloween story it's pretty gory and also really late but I couldn't be fucked to write it any earlier so here we are, 10 minutes before Halloween is officially over thanks to a certain [SOMEONE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane) taking my co-author title (I didn't deserve that title I was just freeloading).
> 
> The dream part borrows heavily from Slipknot's ["Be Prepared For Hell"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CO7LdCMzVRo) 'song' (More accurately a bunch of really creepy sounds that make it hard for me to sleep).
> 
> Enjoy!

_ “I can’t get out or I’ll die.” _

Nicky stood frozen in place, vision blurred and limbs locked. Everything around her was a shape and nothing more, lights glaring through the haze. She could hear someone speaking, their voice familiar but identity unknown. 

_ “Just leave me be.” _

A loud click filled the room and she blinked, her eyes once again functioning as intended. She appeared to be standing atop a large steel palette  alongside several decommissioned Gen 2 synths painted various colors of the spectrum. She winced at the audible grinding noise from her joints as she bent her arm, laboriously taking a heavy step forward and pushing the hunk of plastic and metal out of her way. 

Her head seemed heavy and rusted as she stepped onto the cold rock of a natural cave, unable to move her neck. She cried out as she turned to continue down the corridor, each labored, excruciatingly slow step accompanied by a searing pain. On all sides she was flanked by frigid stone, bearing down on her oppressively. 

_ “I can’t get out or I’ll die.”  _

The voice she’d heard echoed off the walls but she didn’t care, she only wanted to leave. Step by step bounced off the cavern’s walls and deafened her with each metallic thud of her feet. The darkness in front of her and the darkness behind her closed in, dimming her eyesight and locking her joints once again.

As she stood motionless the darkness began to clear once again and she found herself frozen in place before a solid wall, upon which was crucified a man--a scientist--with a crude replica of the Institute’s insignia carved into his bloody chest. The back of his head had been blown out and gray matter coated the walls, his exposed brains replaced with bloody, rusted metal and wires. His hands were riveted to the walls, fingers shattered and torn flesh exposing the bones beneath.

_ “I can’t get out or I’ll die.”  _

He turned his eyes to her and spoke as she began to laugh, though she never opened her mouth. The sounds of joy and the sound of sobs echoed in her head in her own voice, growing louder and louder as she tried to scream but found her jaw rusted closed. The darkness closed in and blinded her.

For a moment she thought it might have all been over, but as she blinked she found herself standing in the center of a room, searing flame burning beneath a grate coated with melted flesh and dead bodies cooked so thoroughly they had fused with the steel. The walls had been painted with blood, the orange light of the flame reflecting off of the fresh sanguine and colored the air that same red.

In the center of the grate sat a woman, sobbing and laughing in tandem as she struggled against her straight jacket. Nicky took a step forward, her joints free and fluid as they once had been. The figure seemed not to notice as she closed in, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

_ “You have taken me.”  _ Nicky’s voice tore from the figure in a shriek.

 

//////////////////

 

“Gah!” Nicky bolted upright in her bedroll, clutching the seam of the sleeping bag. Her sweaty hair clung to her forehead in strings as a wave of nausea washed over her and she vomited across the brickwork that surrounded her bed.

Deacon seemed surprised by the violent awakening, standing suddenly from his chair with a shout and grabbing his handgun. As he regained his composure, he clamped eyes on Nicky and winced, exposing his teeth and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “You sick?” He grunted out, taking a few steps closer as the agent recovered herself.

“Bad dream.” She rasped, rubbing her burning throat and retrieving her canteen of ‘Ever-Cold’ from her bag and taking a swig. Her own recipe stemming from hours of testing on the Nuka-Cola machine, it tasted exactly like the classic formula and, much to her delight, was properly carbonated on top of holding a chill for hours, even in intense heat. The cola calmed her stomach almost instantly and washed free the taste of bile. 

“Must’ve been one hell of a dream.” He indicated her bedroll which, upon closer inspection, seemed to have been torn from the inside. “You gonna tell me what’s been bothering you like this? If you were bullshitting me about being okay with that holotape…” He trailed off, shooting her a side glance from behind his shades as she stood up and grabbed her vest and bag from the wall behind her. 

“Not a big deal, man. I don’t think I’m getting back to sleep, I’ll take watch.” She pulled her charcoal-colored vest on over her yellow synthetic flannel and slung her bag over her shoulder, followed closely by her black scarf and flat cap. Blinking several times, she retrieved her eyeglasses from the wall they’d been resting on and hooked them over her ears.

“It obviously  _ is  _ a big deal because you’ve been freaking out every night for the past week. What the hell is wrong with you?” He folded his arms obstinately and drew his lips into a tight line, staring at her intensely.

Nicky shook her head and approached the chair he’d been sitting on, setting it upright and taking a sat herself. “Seriously, it’s just a nightmare, I’ll get over it. Go on, we’ve still got a long walk back.” She once again motioned to the bedroll and leaned back into the rough wooden back of the chair, making herself comfortable and producing her pip boy and one of the numerous holotape games she’d picked out of the rubble. 

“No, Charmer,” he began, instinctively using her codename, “I’m not going to sleep until you tell me, and if I don’t get to sleep I’ll complain the whole way.” His threat was playful but his tone was anything but, unusually grave and demanding. 

Nicky tipped her head back and groaned, crossing her legs. “Fine, if it’ll get you out of my hair.” She leaned forward and set her pip boy and holotape aside, lacing her fingers together. “It’s been the same nightmare every night. I wake up and I can’t see anything, some guy is saying something to someone I recognize. Then it all goes black and I wake up, but it’s really hard to move, sort of like my joints are rusted. I’m in some cave surrounded by inactive Gen 2s painted all colorful. I try to leave the cave but everything goes black and this wall shows up and it’s got a guy who’s been…” She winced at the thought of the scene that was fresh in her mind, “well, killed in a really gross way. He says the same thing I hear at the beginning of the dream, then I hear myself laughing and crying before I end up in this weird incinerator room or something. There’s some weird chick sitting there in a straight jacket, I walk up to her, touch her, and then bam, I wake up.” She purposefully omitted the ending to the dream, if only because that night had been the only time she’d experienced it.

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Deacon spoke up, “You know, it could be a fault in… uh…” He paused, realizing his mistake and falling silent as he tried to work out a way to salvage the situation. Before he could, however, Nicky cut in.

“Say it, Deacon.” She spoke in a near whisper, casting her eyes to the ground and rubbing her forearm. Once again, silence hung for several seconds before he continued his thought.

“In your memory banks.” He finished with a sympathetic sigh, rubbing the back of his head. “You could just be trying to access a corrupted memory.” He continued, glancing away from his partner. It had been some time since Nicky had learned of her true nature, but she still wasn’t used to talking about herself like the machine that she was.

“I don’t know what the heck I’m remembering, then. ‘I can’t get out or I’ll die’. I’ve never heard anyone say that before.” She paused as Deacon fell totally silent, turning her vision to him as he failed to respond. It seemed something had struck a nerve as he’d gone totally pale.

“I… yeah, no idea. Weird shit.” He shifted uneasily and pointed back at the unsullied bedroll. “I’m gonna hit the sack. Thanks, Charmer.” He spoke somewhat hastily and shrugged his jacket off, hanging it on one of the pegs of the bombed-out building and throwing back the cover.

“Deacon?” Nicky peered over at him, his behavior growing more odd by the moment as he crawled into the sleeping bag and nearly covered his face. “You alright over there?” She scratched the back of her head, subconsciously adjusting her ponytail in one of her various tics. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” He muttered from beneath his cover before falling silent. Nicky nodded slowly and sat back in the chair, furrowing her brow and, for the moment, forgetting all about her planned entertainment as she tried to piece together his odd behavior.

_ “I can’t get out or I’ll die.”  _

The words rang in her head as she tried to decipher the meaning.

“Or I’ll die...”

**Author's Note:**

> I have another work involving Nicky that will encompass her journey through the game's critical path, but that's on hold while I do my two hundred fucktillion big Mass Effect projects.
> 
> Check back in like 2030 and I'll probably have chapter 2 of that up.


End file.
